Come let me love you
by ashwitaashok
Summary: Blaine Anderson is a spoiled prep school boy, Kurt Hummel is the newest transfer to Dalton Academy. Kurt is an enigma, capturing everyone's attention. He speaks to no-one, reveals nothing, and hides away in his single dorm room for the most part. But Blaine is setting about to change that. Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, any of the songs that might be used here, or the title.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Let me tell you a bit about myself. My name is Blaine Anderson. I go to this extremely prestigious private school called Dalton, in Westerville. I'm also gay. I'm not ashamed of it, because no one ever gives me any crap for it, and my parents are also extremely supportive. They love me and send me monthly allowance checks with a whole lot of zeros.

I have two best friends called Wesley Montgomery and David Hughes. They're annoying most of the time, but they're still entertaining, and they understand me. So we're good.

I've gone to private school all my life, and I don't really associate with people who haven't. You see, almost everyone in Dalton come from rich families. Old money or new, they lead extremely luxurious lives. Wes, David and I are no exception.

Dalton has an enforced zero-tolerance no-bullying policy. But really, put a bunch of teenagers together in a room, and can you expect them not to judge each other? Of course, there's never been any physical bullying, but the kids that got into Dalton with scholarships are still pretty ostracized. No one really tries to make friends with them, because we all come from money, and like I said, we stick to our own circles. That's just how life is.

888

The cafeteria was extremely noisy that day. My two best friends, Wes and David were staring at me with expectant expressions on their faces. It was creepy how in sync they were, but having been friends with them for most of my school life, I was pretty used to it.

"Well?", Wes was the first one to speak.

I looked at him with a bored expression. If I tried to ignore them, they would just keep annoying me, and I really wanted to enjoy my lunch. Seriously, this was delicious."What, Wesley?"

Wes scowled-he hated that name-but quickly broke out into an excited grin; like a dog getting thrown a bone. "Have you seen the new kid?"

"Yeah, the new kid, Blaine. Have you seen him?"

"What new kid?", I asked without looking up, nibbling at my chicken.

"The kid that got here today. He didn't speak to anyone, just lugged this one huge suitcase to his dorm room-"  
"-that's on the second floor. He's really pale and was like, hunched over-"

"-so we couldn't see his face or anything, but his clothes seemed really nice-"

"-and he drove here alone. Isn't that weird? New transfers usually come with their entire family with them-"

"-and speaking of the transfer, who would transfer this late in the year? First semester's already over, and we're already on our way to Christmas finals-"  
"-and-"

"**Guys"**, I yelled, trying to get them to stop. I'm pretty sure I'd looked like an idiot that entire conversation, looking between the two of them like watching a tennis match. But that shout got their attention. Not only theirs, actually, but the entire cafeteria's. I glared at them all, and they went back to their conversations, rolling their eyes.

I turned to my friends, speaking calmly, as was the only way to carry on a conversation with them. If you got excited, they fed off it. So you had to be really careful when dealing with them.

"Now, what were you saying about the new student? O ne at a time, please", I added when they started to open their mouths at once. I gestured to David, and he started talking, much calmer this time, probably because his other half was being forced to be quiet.

"There's a new guy. He just moved in today. He drove here alone, and he just pulled this one suitcase up to his room on the second floor, and closed the door. No one's seen him since."

This got me curious. No one transferred in the middle of the year. Hell, no one hardly ever even transferred after freshman year, except for the scholarships. So who was this guy?

David , creep that he was, answered my thoughts. "His name is Kurt Hummel."


	2. Chapter 1

**Hi. So I got back from my two-hour finals this morning and posted this story. Then I had my lunch and fell asleep listening to sappy love songs, and when I woke up in the evening, I was shocked to see that people had already set my story on their alerts, and that I had a review also. This is my first story, so thankyou so much. And yes, that review did make my day. Once I get done with finals, I will hopefully be able to write more, as long as writers' block doesn't decide to be a hindrance. So anyway, we have a day off tomorrow, which I will be using to study, so I decided to write one more chapter. I'm just writing as I go, so if anyone has any suggestions, feel free to put it down in a review, or just PM me if you have an account. I'll stop talking now.**

_**Warnings for the whole story: Homophobia, physical and emotional assault, sexual assault, character death (not Kurt or Blaine, but pretty major, off-screen), and mentions of flashbacks and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.**_

**Chapter 1**

I didn't actually give much thought to the Kurt Hummel thing until I actually saw him the next day. We apparently shared AP English. And when I saw him, well- it wasn't like they show in really sappy movies, where time stops for a second as the lead characters lock eyes, and get lost in each other's presence. No. It was nothing like that. In fact, Kurt Hummel didn't even look at me. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not bragging or anything, but I know I'm pretty good looking. Guys practically fall at my feet whenever I visit the local gay bar. But this guy, he just walked in, gave his slip to , and then walked, all hunched over, to a seat at the very back of the room. He didn't look at anyone, really. That made me feel slightly better. Slightly.

Howard usually takes any opportunity to make students speak out, and I remember, in my sophomore year, a scholarship guy, Luke, transferred, and Howard made him introduce himself in front of the whole class. Poor guy stuttered through the whole thing, and tripped over his shoelaces as he made his way to his seat.

Howard didn't seem particularly interested in making Kurt introduce himself, however, and actually smiled at him. Howard never smiles.

"Boys, as you might have heard, we have a new addition to our class, Kurt Hummel. I hope you'll all make him feel welcome among us." He rushed through this speech, and then promptly began the class. He wasn't a bad teacher, and I usually focused in his classes, but this time my mind was occupied with the new transfer. I sneaked a few glances at him when Howard's back was turned, and I realized that this guy was actually pretty attractive. No, screw attractive. He was absolutely fucking gorgeous. He had chestnut hair that looked like it would be incredibly soft to the touch. He was pale, like my friends had mentioned, yes, but it wasn't unnatural or sickly, it was a warm hue. It was beautiful, and I immediately wanted to touch it. My thoughts surprised me, as I usually didn't give much thought to the appearance of the guys I slept with. Granted, I picked most of them up from the bar, but even those in school that I had slept with had never occupied my mind other than when I was fucking them into the mattress.

But Kurt was different; how, I didn't know, but the one thing I was sure of was that I didn't want to just have sex with him. He intrigued me, and I wanted to know what made him so quiet. I wanted to know why he came to Dalton. But these were just in the background, something I hoped to know someday. The thought at the forefront of my mind was that I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to hear his voice, maybe hear him sing. This was ridiculous. I'd never even heard him talk, and I'd already decided that he was a good singer. I didn't know it for sure, but I just had a feeling about him.

I was snapped out of my thoughts by the bell ringing shrilly. I was startled. Had I really spent an entire hour thinking about Kurt?

I quickly realized that while I was just sitting here, Kurt had packed his things, and made his way over to the door. I jumped up, tripped, stumbled, and just barely managed to catch up to him.

I blocked his path, and decided to introduce myself. It didn't come out as smoothly as I'd hoped.

"Hey, Kurt, right? I'm Blaine. Blaine Anderson. I'm a junior, and I'm in the Warblers. In case you didn't know, they're our a-cappella singing group.." In the middle of my, I'm ashamed to say, blabbering, I didn't notice that Kurt was staring at me with wide eyes, looking ready to bolt. When I did notice, well, that didn't turn out all that great either.

Being a naturally tactile person, I reached out a hand to touch his shoulder, absently noting that his eyes seemed to be a dull grey, like storm clouds, right before the storm starts. But I didn't anticipate his reaction. When he saw my hand lift, he flinched. Violently. He stumbled backwards, so he hit Howard's desk, and looked at me with fear in his incredibly expressive eyes. My eyes widened. I hadn't expected this. He looked like he thought I would hurt him. He looked like he was expecting it.

"Hey", I tried to say, soothingly, "What-what's wrong?"

He didn't reply. He stared at me for a long moment, then shook his head, like he was trying to clear it, and practically sprinted out of the classroom, leaving me to call after him to wait, but to no avail.

I usually knew when I had done something wrong, but this time I was drawing a complete blank. I was just trying to talk to him, and he'd reacted like that.

I didn't know what the hell I was getting myself into, but I decided right then that I was going to uncover the mystery that was Kurt Hummel, no matter what it took.


	3. Chapter 2

**Hi guys, so, thankyou for the great response. It was much bigger than I expected, I didn't think anyone would really set this on an alert. Also, I'd like to apologise in advance for any mistakes, since I'm not really much of a fanfic writer, and this is unbeta'd. **

**I'd also like to type another disclaimer, because the one in the summary is short and doesn't include everything, and also another warning list**

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, any of the character, any recognisable movie, brand or song used here.I also don't own the title, which is a son lyric from John Denver's Annie's Song. All I own is the plot.**_

_**Warnings for the full story: physical and emotional abuse, sexual assault, character death(off screen), male/male, swearing, some underage drinking, and mentions of post traumatic stress disorder**_

**Chapter 2**

The next day was Saturday, so we usually took the opportunity to sleep in, but I'd slept restlessly the last night, and was up before my alarm, something that has never happened before. I was still tired, though, extremely tired, but I didn't feel like going back to bed. My roommate Trent was still snoring away, and I felt jealous of him. He could sleep anywhere, anytime he wanted. The rest of us weren't so lucky.

I considered taking a shower, but I'd taken one last night, and I didn't feel like it anyway. I decided to go with the easiest solution and get some coffee from the cafeteria. I didn't make it a habit to drink cafeteria coffee; I usually went to this coffee shop a half hour away called The Lima Bean. It might seem impractical to drive all the way to the outskirts of Westerville for coffee. But you wouldn't understand 'til you've tried the coffee at the Lima Bean. I'm pretty sure it's the best in the country. Dalton coffee was no Lima Bean coffee, but it would have to do for now.

I pulled on a Dalton t-shirt and some sweatpants, and made my way down to the cafeteria. It was really quiet, and that was a rare occurrence at Dalton, because prep school boys or not, we were teenage boys. I figured the only time it was this quiet was when we were all asleep. No one else would be up for a couple of hours.

I reached the cafeteria, and had almost reached the coffee maker when I realized I wasn't alone. Kurt Hummel was sitting at one of the tables, his back to me, but from the tense set of his shoulders, I figured he had seen me enter.

I hesitated before walking over to him. I didn't know what had come over him yesterday, but I knew I wanted to find out. Not that I would ever ask him that straight out. I also realized my palms were sweating. I was nervous. I'd never been nervous about talking to anyone, especially boys, before. Kurt Hummel had occupied my mind for the majority of last night, and what he was doing to me was scaring me. I pushed the anxiety to the back of my mind, though. Right now, I had Kurt right in front of me, and I was going to have a conversation with him or my name wasn't Blaine Anderson.

I cleared my throat and he looked up at me. I tried to give a reassuring smile.

"Hey, can I sit?", I asked. He peered up at me warily for a long moment. I didn't drop my gaze. I looked him straight in the eyes, and I was again thrown for a loop. His eyes appeared to be a soft green now. Huh. I'd have sworn they were grey yesterday.

"Why do you want to sit here?", he asked, and I was dazed for a moment. His voice had thrown me off guard. It was high pitched, and soft, but there was an underlying masculinity to it that made it completely unique. It was beautiful. _Just like him,_ a small voice in my mind supplied helpfully. I stubbornly refused to address my traitorous thoughts.

"Well, I saw you sitting here, and, well, you're new, and you look interesting. Thought I'd strike up a conversation", I shrugged lightly, never letting the smile leave my face.

He still looked wary and slightly disbelieving, but he gave a short, barely perceptible bob of his head. I sat down and took a sip of my coffee, absently noting he had one, too. He was studying me carefully, and then opened his mouth.

"I pretty much freaked out on you yesterday; I-I don't understand why you're still here."

I shrugged again, and thought before answering. "Well, I wasn't really subtle. I understand if you were overwhelmed."

He looked at me for a moment longer before sighing. "Okay, what do you want?"

"Why do I have to want something? You're the new kid, just thought I'd welcome you, and maybe make a new friend."

"A new friend ", He repeated.

"Yeah", I replied, giving him my most innocent look, taking another sip of my coffee.

He kept staring, before relaxing the tiniest bit. His lips twitched upwards, a hint of a smile, and I considered that an accomplishment.

888

Kurt and I had coffee together. When we finished our first cups, I got us both refills, ignoring his protests, and we talked. Well, it was mostly me doing the talking, but I considered it a great thing that he was even giving me his attention. I finally got to finish the introduction that had gone to hell the previous day. I told him about the Warblers, and a bit about WeVid. I didn't want to overwhelm him, after all. I told him which teachers not to provoke, which were actually pretty cool, told him about the library, just mundane things. Kurt made sounds of acknowledgement in between to show he was listening, and actually asked a few questions. He never talked about himself, but I was too happy to care. Throughout the conversation, I picked up on little quirks of his, like the way his nose would scrunch up adorably (another thought I was unwilling to address) when he was confused, and I realized that his eyes actually changed colour according to his mood. While we were talking, it turned to a light baby blue, and I hoped desperately that that was a good sign.

I hadn't even realized how long we'd been talking, because next thing I knew, Wes and David were on both sides of me. It was then that I saw that there were a few other kids in the cafeteria, getting their breakfast.

"Hey, Blaine, why are you up so early?", Wes asked me, his eyes fixed on Kurt. David kept quiet, choosing to simply observe for the moment, I figured. They didn't become their overly obnoxious selves unless they were alone with me, and usually managed to control themselves around other people.

"Um, I-I couldn't sleep, and decided to get some coffee. Guys, this is Kurt. Kurt, these are Wes and David. I introduced them, but I could see that Kurt was reverting into his shell, and he looked slightly afraid. He nodded towards them, and they responded with polite "HI, Kurt" s.

I wasn't willing to let this be our only interaction, so, without fully thinking it through, I turned to Wes and David, saying, "Uh, guys, could you excuse us, for a second?" They nodded, looking suspicious, but not questioning it, and moved away to get something to eat.

"Hey, they're actually really cool guys, once you spend time with them", I said. Kurt shook his head, looking up at me, "No, it's fine, I just wasn't expecting them. I wasn't really expecting any of this."

I nodded, biting my lip, a little tick of mine I'd never been quite able to get over. I made a spur-of-the-moment decision, and took a napkin, and asked Kurt if he had a pen. He looked suspicious, but mostly curious, as I scribbled my six digits on the napkin. I handed it and his pen over to Kurt, and said, "It's my number. Just, you know, call me if you want to talk, or anything. I'd really like to spend more time with you, Kurt, so I hope we can do this again?"

Kurt stared at the napkin with wide eyes, and then nodded, a bit shyly, not meeting my eyes.

I beamed. "Great. I'll see you in class, Kurt. Bye."

He whispered a "bye" back to me, and I turned around and practically sprinted towards my room, only to be intercepted by Wes and David, who were looking at me with twin smirks. I sighed, my good mood subdued now. I had a hell of a lot of explaining to do, judging by the looks on their faces.


	4. Chapter 3

**Hi, guys. I know it took longer for this update, but that will probably be my schedule from now on, because I can only manage to write during weekends or off days. I have an off day at school tomorrow because of a strike, so I wrote this right now. I'll repeat again that I'm just writing as I go, and posting as soon as I write chapters, so feel free to let me know about anything you'd like to see in this story.**

**Thank you all again for the amazing response. All the reviews and alerts and favourites completely blew me away. Thankyou! **

**Chapter 3**

It had been two days since I'd had my chat with Kurt Hummel. Two days since I had been staring at him like a "lovesick puppy", as Wes put it. I, of course, strongly denied that accusation. There was no "relationship" going on between me and Kurt. There was also no sex. I sighed as I remembered how Wes and David had stared at me when I said that. They couldn't seem to believe that I could just be making a new friend. _A new, drop-dead gorgeous friend with colour-changing eyes. Yeah, that sounds like you, Blaine,_ a voice eerily similar to Wes whispered in my head. I rapidly shook my head. Wes himself was creepy. I didn't even want to _think _about Wes in my head. Anyway, it had been two days since Kurt and I had made tentative conversation, and I had given him my number. But the thing was, he hadn't called me yet. Now I wouldn't be worried if this was one of my conquests we were talking about, because I would really prefer it if they_ didn't _call me. But Kurt was just an acquaintance. Hopefully a friend soon. And I'd admitted to myself that I cared for Kurt at least a little, in a completely non-platonic way. So I decided to go visit him in his dorm room.

I'd gotten the directions from David, and he'd smirked at me like he knew something I didn't, and told me it was on the second floor, C wing, third door down the left. I made my way over, humming mindlessly under my breath the whole time. When I reached the entrance to the C wing, I was greeted by an unusual sight. And by unusual I mean like fucking apocalyptic. There was a public school kid. Inside Dalton. You could tell by looking at him from fucking space that he was a public school kid. No one in Dalton's circles looked like that, or would ever look like that.

He was wearing super baggy jeans, and had a leather jacket on. A fucking _leather jacket._ And he had a Mohawk. A _Mohawk._ Jeez, who _was _this kid? How did he even get allowed in? He was standing in the middle of the C wing hallway, looking around. He glared at me as he noticed me staring at him. He walked over to me and asked, real intimidating and everything, "What're you looking at, hobbit?"

Hobbit? Really? He _had_ to make a joke about my height? Was that really the first thing everyone noticed about me? I realized that I was still just staring at him, and he looked even more pissed now. "I asked you a question, prep school."

I gulped. Despite being so rich I could buy out all of Macy's and still have a comfortable retirement, I hadn't bothered to spend any money in self defence classes. _If this kid flips his shit, I'll be toast, _I thought. He looked like he was going to start beating me up, balling up his fists and everything, and I was getting ready to make a run for it, when we were both halted in our actions by a familiar voice calling out, "Noah Puckerman, what the hell are you _doing_ here?"

It was Kurt, the very person I'd come here to see. He was laughing, seemingly overjoyed, at the presence of this..Puckerman fellow. The kid also seemed happy. His face broke out in a smile so wide it stretched to his ears.

He lifted Kurt up, and he went willingly. Even in the midst of my utter bafflement at the current situation, I was hit by a sharp stab of jealousy. That was just what I needed. Just when I'd convinced myself and WeVid that my..relationship...with Kurt was platonic, I started getting jealous. Great. Absolutely fucking perfect.

After a smaller embrace and a fist pump, which threw me for a loop since I hadn't thought Kurt invested in such, um, bro-ly gestures, Kurt seemed to remember I was there, and turned to me.

"Blaine, hi.", he said, stepping a bit further away from Puck, and smiling at me. I automatically smiled back. He was adorable. An adorable friend. He had seemed ecstatic when Puckerman had arrived, so I guessed they'd known each other for a while now. I wanted to make him smile like that when he saw me. I pushed that thought away and replied warmly, "Hey, Kurt. How do you two know each other?"

Kurt's smile faded a miniscule bit, but he regained his composure soon enough, and said, "Puck and I used to go to school together. M-McKInley High", he finished.

Huh. So Kurt used to go to public school. He definitely didn't look the part, but I guessed that explained his mid-year transfer. He must be a scholarship. Funnily enough, that didn't bother me, when normally I would never try to associate with the scholarships. This one was special, though. I'd already realized that. He intrigued me, and I wanted to know him in and out.

"Oh, well, it's nice to meet you, um..", I trailed off, unsure of what to call him.

"Puck." He finished for me. His tone was clipped. I guessed he didn't like me. Hadn't seen that coming at all.

Kurt looked between the two of us for a second before asking me if I would excuse them, and he ushered Puck off a little distance away. I tried to give them privacy, looking somewhere else, and they were back before long.

"So", Puck began," my boy Kurt here says he's fine here and everything. And I believe him. But if I hear that he gets hurt in any way here..", he trailed off threateningly.

Kurt glared at Puck. Puck stared back.

I gulped again, but managed to find my voice again, "Um, yeah, of course. Dalton is perfectly safe. Kurt will be fine", I finished, going for the sincere look. Puck didn't seem to appreciate it much, though. He was still glaring at me.

"Well, I'm off, Hummel, you let me know if you need anything". He then proceeded to pull Kurt into a one-armed bro hug, which he enthusiastically returned.

Kurt and I watched as Puck walked off, and then Kurt wordlessly led me to his dorm room. When we got there, he asked me if I wanted to sit, and I took a place on his desk chair, and Kurt took one on his bed.

"So, why didn't you call?", I asked, straight to the point.

Kurt blushed, and I immediately wanted to feel his cheeks with my hands. I cursed my mind for going down that road again.

Kurt cleared his throat, and stuttered, "W-well, um, you'd only _just_ given me your number, and well, I-I didn't have anything to s-say, I mean, what would I say?"He laughed nervously.

"Well, I gave you my number for you to use, and why should you have anything important to tell me? You could just tell me what you ate for breakfast that day." I paused, suddenly unsure, "Unless you don't _want _my number? And I just forced it on you? In that case, you should just tell me before I make much more of a fool out of myself."

Kurt's eyes widened, and he hastily replied, "NO! No, Blaine. It's not that. It's just, well, you're the first person here to talk to me, and in case you hadn't noticed, I'm kind of a loner. I was just unsure of what to do. Please understand. It has nothing to do with you."

Kurt looked so sincere with his big, bright blue eyes that I knew I had to believe him. Still, "You didn't look like much of a loner with that Puckerman guy.."

Kurt avoided my eyes for a second before speaking, "Puck is, um, well, he's not really the kind of guy anyone would see _me _hanging out with, and I know most people would find it weird, but he doesn't care about the gay thing. I mean, it wasn't always like that, but now he's my best friend. He, um, well, there were some..incidents in my old school, which weren't exactly in my favour, and out of all the people in that school Puck was the only one who bothered to stand up for me. Sure, his methods might be a little barbaric, but he's been there for me, and so we kept in touch even when I transferred. I couldn't imagine not having him for a friend.

" I honestly didn't know he was coming. I guess he was going for the element of surprise, and boy, was I surprised. Puck doesn't really usually just walk into prep schools every day. So that meant a lot. Puck's the only one I can imagine being so close with right now, because he's seen me at my worst" Kurt paused for a second, looking at me, then continued, " But that's different. This school, the transfer, it's all really overwhelming, and I'm going to need some time to get used to it. That's why I was hesitant to call you. I don't know how this place works, or anything, and it's just..hard. I promise I didn't mean for you to think I didn't want to talk to you. Coffee was, it was nice. Thankyou for that."

I could see he meant the apology, and he clearly trusted Puck, so he must not be that bad."Well, I can understand that you were overwhelmed by the changes, so I guess I forgive you", I smiled, "And I'm glad you had Puck to help you through whatever was bothering you," I smirked, teasing and flirty, "I guess next time I'll just text you first, then". I winked, and walked out of Kurt's room, catching sight of that adorable blush before I turned around. I swore right then that I'd make him blush more often.


	5. Chapter 4

**Okay. So I wrote again. After I said I wouldn't write until the weekend. I'm a terrible person.**

**Chapter 4**

After the incident with Puck, things between me and Kurt had been going better than ever. We spoke and texted regularly. There wasn't really anything of importance in our texts, mostly because Dalton, as a _school_ didn't have all that much teenage drama. I mean, sure, a lot of us hated each other, and had dated or slept with each other, but, save for a few times, our drama was kept to ourselves. We never made a spectacle of it. The main reason for this was that, since most of our parents had connections with each other, no one wanted any wind of our shenanigans getting to them. That would definitely lead to a lot of unnecessary trouble. So the atmosphere at Dalton was almost always calm and Kurt, being new, had not learned about any of the drama that had taken place before, in the privacy of the dorm rooms.

We mostly texted about mundane things, and about our classes, but I enjoyed his company far too much to complain about what we talked about. When we met up for breakfast in some secluded corner of the cafeteria, we would talk about our families, our teachers, favourite singers, favourite television shows, etc. Sometimes Kurt's old school would come up, but I had realized that that was sort of a sore subject for him, and made sure to carefully skirt around the subject. I didn't want Kurt getting upset. I could tell something had happened at that school that made it necessary for him to transfer. I didn't know what, but I wouldn't pry. If Kurt felt like he trusted me enough to tell me about what had happened, then I'd gladly listen, but not before then.

The concern and caring and almost protectiveness I felt for Kurt had ceased to surprise me some time ago. Now I realized that he was different, and that, attractive or not, I did not want to take advantage of him and have sex with him. I simply wanted to bask in his company.

Being with Kurt was addictive. He was amazing. Over the time I'd spent with him, I'd learned that he was snarky and sarcastic, but could charm the pants off of anyone-male or female- at the same time. I'd learned that he liked Broadway classics, but that he considered Lady Gaga and Britney Spears classics in their own right. I'd learned that he liked dressing for any occasion; that he liked Alexander McQueen and Marc Jacobs, and that he absolutely _hated _the Dalton uniform. "Cheap polyester, Blaine, cheap polyester. It's atrocious!", he'd said. I'd also learned that he was slowly coming out of his shell, but that, save for a few words in passing, he hadn't spoken to anyone else but me.

I wanted to introduce him to Wes and David. And, technically, I'd already done that, but I wanted my friends to get to know Kurt, to like him, to see that same spark in him that I saw. I guessed this was a big deal, since meeting Wes and David was more important that meeting my parents. Though I loved my parents, I'd never really been _close _to them the way I was with Wes and David. I know that even though they tease me all the time, and I tell them I hate them, they really do care about me, and want to see me happy. Now, Kurt wasn't a boyfriend by any means, I wasn't sure if I'd ever have one of those(though my subconscious was beginning to think differently lately, for some reason), but he wasn't a conquest. He meant something to me, and he was a big part of my life, which was why I wanted him to meet the other big part of my life.

I brought the subject up with him one day while we were doing AP Calculus homework in his dorm room.

"Hey, Kurt?", I asked tentatively, putting away my books. Kurt looked up from his work and arched an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

I smiled, slightly shakily, "What, um, what would you say about meeting Wes and David?"

Kurt's brow furrowed, "Haven't I already met them? That first day at breakfast?"

"Well, yeah, but you don't really know each other. And they both mean a lot to me, and you mean a lot to me now too, so, I'd really like it if you spent some time with them. I mean, if you don't want to, go ahead and say so, I won't force you to do anything. It was just-a suggestion." I finished, looking up at him hopefully.

Kurt looked slightly hesitant, but then he looked at me with a smile and determination in his eyes, and said, "Sure, Blaine. If it's that important to you, I will. And besides, I think I should actually start talking to people here before they think I'm mute or something."

I beamed. This boy was amazing. Now the only problem was explaining to Wes and David.

888

My chance came sooner than I thought. We were in the cafeteria again the next day, and Wes looked at me, forgetting his food for a second, and asked, "So, Blaine, how is it going with Kurt?"

David nodded to show his interest, and I took the opening. I hadn't really had a chance to tell them anything about Kurt, since I'd been spending so much time _with _him.

"It's going great. He's a really great guy. We've been spending a lot of time together, and we have breakfast together sometimes."

David and Wes exchanged a look. They seemed to come to an agreement, and Wes was the one who spoke, while David settled for staring at me with an intense look that made me shift uncomfortably. Creep.

"Look, Blaine. From what we understand, you haven't had sex with him yet. And you're spending all this time with him. We're just concerned that you're maybe leading him on a bit. And he looks like he hasn't really become comfortable with Dalton yet, so, maybe you should tone it down a little bit?"

I immediately got defensive, my default mode whenever anyone even slightly hinted at an accusation against me."What do you mean, Wes?", I asked, crossing my hands over my chest and glaring at him slightly.

He held up a hand. "Now, don't get all defensive. It's just us. You know we care about you."  
He stared me down until I relaxed and nodded at him to continue. "Thankyou", he replied, "Now, all we're saying is that, since he's so new to the school and everything, maybe, after you sleep with him, just maybe, he'll think you're in a relationship or something, and it might be too hard on him when you turn him down."

My eyes widened. "What? Wes, no! Look, I spend time with Kurt because I like it. He's a really great guy to be around, and he makes me smile. I don't like him in a non-platonic way. He's attractive, yes, a straight, blind man could see that, but I have no intention of sleeping with him. He's just really great to be around, and I see where your concern is coming from, but trust me, Kurt's different. I don't want him to get hurt either."

Wes and David shared yet another telepathic look, and then David spoke up. "But, Blaine, it isn't like you to spend time with a guy just because you like it. You're usually trying to get in their pants."

"But, guys, Kurt isn't like that. He's funny and sarcastic and charming. He's also _just _a friend." I hoped they'd believe me, because it was true. Kurt _was _just a friend. But my feelings were confusing as hell, and I wasn't quite ready to address them yet.

Wes and David did seem to believe me, and Wes said, "Well, we're happy if you're happy, Blaine. You seem to really like Kurt. And yes, it's a bit hard to believe, because let's face it, Blaine, you don't have the best track record, but maybe he's going to be the one that makes a difference. We'd also like to meet him, if that's okay with him, of course." Wes smiled. I smiled back gratefully, and nodded.

And then David interjected and ruined the moment, smirking, "Besides, we don't completely believe you when you say Kurt's, quote, just a friend, unquote. If this gets you a boyfriend, then so be it. We'll get to threaten him with bodily harm if he hurts you or some-" I threw a piece of my salad at him, then mourned my loss, as my so-called friends broke out into hysterical snickers.

888

"Kurt, come on, don't be nervous. They're really cool guys. I've known them all my life."

Kurt gave me his patented bitch glare, and I shrunk back into my place on his bed. "It's not that, Blaine. It's the fact that I am the most socially awkward person on the planet, and my fashion sense has chosen now to fail me. It's the fact that this is important to you, and I _don't know what to wear!"_

I bit back a chuckle as more scarves came flying out of the closet. I honestly didn't know what Kurt needed all of this for. We were dressed in a uniform five days a week. When I had asked him, Kurt had just sniffed and said that every moment was an opportunity for fashion. I couldn't say I got it, but fashion-passion Kurt was adorable. Just like every other Kurt there was. Except for angry Kurt. Now that was just scary.

"You'll be fine, Kurt. You look fine. It's warm out; you don't _need _a scarf. Besides, Wes and David dress like I do. And I know what you think of how I dress. They won't _care_ what you're wearing. All they'll care about is meeting you. And the food."

Kurt seemed to relax at my pep talk, and finally stepped away from my closet. We were meeting Wes and David at a restaurant not far from here. It was the weekend, and hence WeVid had wanted to squeeze in a movie, so instead of the informal meeting we would have preferred, we were meeting for dinner. Normally I would have accompanied them to the movie, but I had opted out today. I'd wanted to make sure Kurt wasn't freaking out. Something I was glad for now.

We made our way over to my car. I had insisted on driving, and Kurt had finally given in when I made the very valid point that Kurt didn't know where the restaurant was. We would definitely get there faster if I was driving, and not wasting time giving directions to Kurt.

The drive was silent save for the music set at a low volume. It wasn't awkward, though, just companionable. I was once again struck by how comfortable I felt around Kurt. We could both be fanboying over a mutual interest, or working silently on homework together, and it would still feel perfectly natural. I decided that I'd have to address my feelings sooner rather than later. It wouldn't do anyone any good if I kept ignoring them. But for right then, I decided to just enjoy the moment. I looked over to Kurt, who was staring out the window, and smiled, then turned back to the front. It would definitely be unfortunate if we both got killed before I addressed how I felt for Kurt.

When we got there, Wes and David were already seated, and seemed to be arguing over what to order. I smirked. They could deny it all they wanted, but they were definitely an old married couple.

We went over to the booth, and Kurt, albeit slightly shakily, initiated the conversation, "Gentleman, I'd like to properly introduce myself. Kurt Hummel, junior, mid-year transfer, though I'm sure you already knew that part."

I was proud of Kurt for managing to be witty even when he was under so much (completely unnecessary) pressure. Wes and David seemed charmed, and we sat down, ordered, and then there was a split moment of silence before David said, "Hey, Kurt, do you know about the time Blaine ran around the Dalton dorms naked and singing Lady Gaga?"

I groaned. Wes smirked. Kurt seemed shocked, but also, I was infuriated to see, slightly curious and more than a little amused.

"Why, no, David. I don't believe Blaine told me." He looked over at me, hiding a smirk, and I glared.

Wes grinned mischievously. "Well then, by all means, let us tell you _all _about it."

The next hour and a half was incredibly, unbearably humiliating for me, and seemingly incredibly, unbearably hilarious for the rest of the occupants of the booth. Kurt nearly fell out of his chair laughing one time, and Wes and David were more than happy to supply more stories of my past.

It wasn't entirely Wes and David, though. Kurt shared stories about his old school, mostly about Puck, but the mood was light. We didn't delve into any sensitive topics which could potentially make the conversation go downhill, and Wes even subtly shot me a thumbs up when Kurt was talking to David.

All things considered, I'd say the dinner went extremely well, and above my expectations. I was a happy man that night. And as Kurt and I locked eyes near the end, I knew that I could afford to break a few of my own rules for this boy.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

After dinner, I had driven Kurt back to Dalton, and I was now walking him to his room. He had protested ("I know the way to my own dorm room, Blaine!") but eventually he had given in, sighing dramatically, but there had been a smile twitching at the corner of his lips. God, he was beautiful when he smiled. The first time I'd gotten to see it, it had taken my breath away. We had been in Kurt's dorm (we were almost never in mine, since I had a roommate, and Kurt had a fucking _single_), and I had made a comment about Patti LuPone's new book, and Kurt's eyes had lighted up, then he had proceeded to rant for at least fifteen minutes about how amazing it had been and how he couldn't believe I'd read it, and so on; and all the while all I could think about was how beautiful he looked. I hadn't thought much more about that, taking my usual method of ignoring the problem and hoping no one shoves it in my face, but I had sworn tonight that I was going to address the matter as soon as possible, and I intended to keep it.

"So, tonight went a lot better than I expected..", Kurt said, looking my way.

I flashed him a smirk. "Yeah, Wes and David didn't take you to court for not wearing the scarf. What a surprise, right?"

Kurt rolled his eyes and smacked my shoulder. The contact had my skin tingling below my clothes. Kurt had become more comfortable about initiating touch over the course of our friendship, but it was still rare, and I cherished the moments he was unguarded enough to do it. I myself never touched him without his encouragement, for fear of an incident like our first meeting. I still sometimes shuddered thinking about my lack of tact or subtlety.

"Oh, come on, it was a perfectly valid concern to have. You've all been born into money, and I didn't want to stick out like a sore thumb."

"Kurt, just because we've been born into money doesn't mean we're all snobs who can't live without Armani or Dolce. In fact, most of us tend to look for comfortable clothes. We avoid the big guns other than when it's completely necessary-like one of those fundraisers or get-togethers that someone throws, and everyone else _has_ to attend." I smiled, "Besides, almost all of our parents would choose horrible clothes if left to their own devices. It's just their stylists that keep them from committing fashion crimes every day. I think- no, screw that, I' m one hundred percent certain that you'd be the best-dressed man in the room if you attended one of those functions."

Kurt blushed and rolled his eyes again."Flattery will get you nowhere, Anderson."

"No, I'm serious. I've seen some of your designs, Kurt. You are _incredibly_ talented; you _make _your own clothes. I think you should apply to a fashion school next year, Kurt. Parsons or FIT or something. You like New York, don't you? They would be idiots not to let you in."

Kurt paused in his step and looked at me, a distant look in his eye. Then he said, quietly, "Yeah. Maybe."

There was definitely a story he wasn't; telling me, but I wouldn't pry. But I _would _try to convince Kurt to send in his designs to some prestigious school. He'd definitely get in.

The rest of the walk was quiet, both of us lost in our own thoughts.

When we got to his dorm, we lingered a bit, the air heavy with something I couldn't place. Finally Kurt spoke, "I had fun tonight, Blaine. Wes and David are good guys, and I'm glad you wanted me to meet them. It means a lot to me. Both that you introduced me to them, and that they were willing to meet me." His voice was quiet and his eyes soft. Kurt Hummel was still a mystery to me, and I could definitely not read him completely. But I had a feeling that, if I knew each and every fact about him, each and every secret no one else knew, knew him inside out, he would still continue to be an enigma.

Not wanting to break the trance-like state we were in, I replied, "I had a great time, too, Kurt. And I already told you, you-you're so, so important to me, Kurt. I know we've only known each other a little more than three weeks, but you have to know how much you mean to me.

Kurt smiled, and nodded softly. "You should go, it's-it's almost curfew."

I nodded back, staring at his eyes, "Yeah."

I made no move for a few more seconds, but then I reluctantly turned my gaze away, and after whispering a soft 'bye into his ear, I turned and made my way over to B wing, where my room was located. The walk seemed to be over before I knew it, and I was in my room. I inhaled deeply once, closing my eyes and leaning my head against the door. I opened my eyes, and realized that I was the only occupant, and on further inspection, found a note on the pin board in the hurried scrawl of my roommate, saying he was going home this weekend. I hadn't noticed that when I was getting ready to go pick Kurt up.

I dropped my bag haphazardly onto my desk chair, and decided to take a shower. I walked into our en suite bathroom, and adjusted the water. A nice, warm shower was just what I needed. I closed my eyes again, as the warm water came down in a strong flow, soothing my tense back, working out all the knots. I realized that this whole avoiding-my-feelings thing had taken a lot more out of me that I had anticipated.

I flipped open the lid of my shower gel, and massaged the soap suds onto my body. I kept my eyes closed the whole time, basking in the soothing feel of the water. I was ready to confront what had been tormenting me the whole time I'd known Kurt.

I already knew he was attractive. I'd noticed it the first time I'd laid eyes on him. But then again, who wouldn't. He was beautiful, and unbearably sexy. But this thing with Kurt wasn't just a surface attraction. I'd found myself admitting that more times than I'd care to admit.

I loved his voice. I could listen to him talk for hours without getting the slightest bit annoyed.

Kurt could make me smile even when I was in the sourest of moods-and believe me, I could get grumpy. Even Wes and David usually left me alone when I got in one of those super depressed, super irritated moods. But all Kurt had had to do was give me a smile and a cup of my favourite coffee (which he had memorized, and I, in turn, had memorized his) and I had calmed down immediately.

Kurt had a way of making every conversation witty and enjoyable. We had read Vogue together once, and I'd found myself more interested in his snarky commentary than the actual magazine. His fashion sense was impeccable. I had meant what I'd said to Kurt earlier. I had no trouble imagining him as one of the chief editors at Vogue in a few years, and maybe even the owner of his own label. He certainly had the talent for it.

There was also something in his eyes, sometimes, when we would talk about fashion or Broadway- a passion that illuminated his entire being. It didn't show very often, but it was definitely there, rising up at times-like something from his past.

His past was another thing that intrigued me to no extent. Kurt Hummel had just shown up one fine morning, or more technically speaking, evening, with no other details revealed to the general student population. I imagined the faculty knew more about his situation. But then Kurt himself had opened himself up to me. He had told me, once, how he had felt detached from the rest of the world; that he had felt like a freak, and that he had been treated as one.

I felt my hands curl into fists at the thought of anyone mistreating Kurt. He hadn't spoken much on the topic-just bits and pieces, but it was enough to make my blood boil. Kurt deserved the best of the best, not prejudice from some retarded dickheads.

It had come as a surprise to me when Kurt had first told me about the verbal abuse that took place at McKinley. Of course, I wasn't naive enough to think that the whole world was like Dalton- safe; no matter how much you were judged, there was no way anyone could lay a hand on you. Knowing he had come from a public school, I should have expected that some idiots must have thrown around some homophobic slurs. But I had been living in this world for so long that I had come to accept it as reality. Every once in a while, when we were out of the Dalton walls, I would get a reality check-like Kurt's treatment at McKinley.

Still, it wasn't so much the fact that Kurt had been verbally insulted that made me want to personally rip all those assholes apart (however impractical it may seem, after the incident with Puck), but the fact that I could see just by looking at his eyes that there was more to the story than that. The idea that they may have done worse than just tossed around some overused slurs a couple of times, which was bad enough, made me not only angry, but also scared. I didn't know what the situation in public schools was, so I couldn't begin to conjure up an idea of what Kurt's experience must have been like. I didn't know what Kurt had been through, and I desperately wanted to shake Kurt by the shoulders and beg him to tell me so I didn't die of anxiety. But I knew I couldn't do that. I had already vowed that I wouldn't force Kurt to tell me anything. He didn't owe me an explanation. He would tell me when he trusted me enough. I was willing to wait.

But my plan for tonight wasn't speculating Kurt's past. It was addressing my rather confusing feelings. I had gotten sidetracked for a while there. The reason I'd wanted to acknowledge my hidden desires as soon as possible, was not only Kurt's uniqueness, but also that there had been an incident a few days ago.

I had been making my way over to my room after lunch with Wes and David. I hadn't really been watching where I was going, and I had bumped straight into a red-headed, medium-built guy called Matthew. Matthew and I had had a history-well, you couldn't really call it that. We had never really ended our acquaintances-with-benefits relationship. In fact, up until I'd met Kurt, we used to meet up in either of our dorms quite frequently. That day, Matthew, after straightening himself up, had grinned at me in a way that a few weeks ago would have made my eyes darken with lust, and we would soon have snuck into the nearest empty classroom, and wouldn't have emerged for quite some time. But that time, I hadn't been the slightest bit turned on. I had politely turned Matthew down, and although he had looked slightly disappointed, I was sure he had found someone else to fool around with. Matthew wasn't really big on the whole commitment thing either.

But after that event, I had realized that since I had met Kurt, I hadn't had sex a single time. Sex used to be a regular part of my week before then, but now I realized I didn't actually want to sleep with _anyone. _

I _had_ been spending a lot of time with Kurt lately. Even WeVid seemed to think so. But it wasn't that I was too busy with Kurt that I didn't have _time _to sleep with someone and satisfy my raging teenage hormones. It was that I didn't _want _to sleep with anyone, as long as I had Kurt.

I used to be dead set against dating. At least during high school. I used to think it brought on unnecessary stress, and that we could be perfectly satisfied with sex. But I realized Kurt could be an exception. I realized that I could break my own rule, and ask him out, because I wanted to be as close to him as I could. I wanted to spoil him with fancy dinners, and expensive clothing, and hold his hand when we went out for coffee, and _cuddle _with him, and make him happy.

Adding to my seemingly endless sequence of realizations that night, I also realized that just because I had acknowledged my feelings, the situation didn't change. I mean, sure, now I wasn't being a coward anymore, _great_, but that certainly didn't mean Kurt requited my feelings. The guy was new here. Maybe he was just spending time with me because I was the only one who had made an effort to talk to him, and actually didn't enjoy my company at all.

_That's ridiculous_, I decided. Kurt definitely wasn't pretending to be my friend. We had loads of stuff in common, and moreover, I was sure that he trusted me at least a bit. Or else he wouldn't have introduced me to Puck, or shared anything at all about McKinley.

Okay, so he was my friend. But that still didn't mean he felt the same way. Kurt was still adjusting to Dalton, and maybe now wasn't a great time to start a relationship. _I shouldn't be making decisions for him. He's his own person; he can decide for himself. _ I realized that was true. I had no right to interfere in Kurt's feelings. If he felt the same way, then great. If he didn't, I hoped we could at least stay friends, because Kurt was way too valuable to lose.

Cold water against my body startled me from my thoughts. I turned off the shower quickly, towelled off, and after I pulled on some sweatpants, turned off my lights and crawled under my covers.

_I'll be his friend; I'll wait and see if he does like me, and if he does, then I'll ask him out. _I nodded once, to myself, firmly, in agreement, and I slept, for the first time in almost a month, soundly, all through the night.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

A week after I'd decided to wait it out with Kurt, I found myself cursing David while walking into a moderately sized workshop in Lima, Wes and David following me. Kurt had told me that he was going home that weekend, and I'd decided to join Wes and David when they informed me they were going to watch a theatre rerun of Harry Potter. After all, who doesn't love Harry Potter? We'd gotten all excited and everything, because the three of us could quote every line of every movie in the Harry Potter franchise in our sleep.

But then, halfway to the theatre, the car had started making spluttering noises. We didn't pay it much heed, because it was an expensive, really, _really _expensive car, and we hadn't expected it to _break down!_

The theatre had been on the outskirts of Westerville, we had reached the borders of Lima when the car finally gave up. Which meant we were stranded. Wes and I glared at David, and he cowered under the combined force of our wraths. We couldn't really ask anyone from Dalton to come drive us back, mostly because no one would bother helping us. Just because our parents were close didn't mean we were all best buddies. There were only two others who I could consider friends in all of Dalton, excepting Kurt, of course. Jeff Sterling and Nick Duval. Both gay and completely nauseatingly in love with each other. They, too, were in the Warblers, like the three of us, and we got along really well. We would have called them, but they had decided to take advantage of the weekend and make a date out of it. And we definitely didn't want to interrupt their date. Who knew what they could have been doing.

So we were on our own. We had had to find a repair shop via Google, and it turned out the nearest one was in Lima_. _A shop called Hummel's Tyres and Lube. The name sounded slightly familiar, and I felt like I should know something, but at the moment I was too irritated for my mind to be working properly. We called the number listed in the shop's details, explained what had happened, named our location, and then waited.

About half an hour later, a truck came up, and a heavily built blond man walked out. He came over to us, calling out, "You're the ones who called, yeah?"

I almost wanted to ask him if he saw any other broken down cars in the vicinity, and then swallowed down the urge. It wouldn't do any good to anger the guy who seemed to be our only way out of here. "Yeah, that's us. It just started spluttering, and then stopped", I said instead.

The man came over and asked David to pop the hood, bending over the car when David complied. "I'm Jim, by the way."

"We're Wes, David and Blaine", Wes introduced, pointing each of us out as he said our names.

Jim nodded, then hummed as he trained his eyes on the car. "That's some pretty big damage. We're gonna need to bring'er over to the shop. Little boss'll fix you up just fine. He's better at the bigger stuff than any of us. You know, the more expensive ones."

I had no idea who "Little boss" was, but I nodded anyway. I just wanted to get this done and over with. I presumed we would be riding in the tow truck to the shop, and then there would be more waiting.

Fifteen minutes later, we were approaching a garage, with the name of the shop in huge bold letters displayed proudly on a plaque. I remembered why the name had seemed familiar. It was Kurt's last name, of course. I felt stupid for not remembering earlier. I spent most of my time with him, and I couldn't remember his last name. I figured I must have been _really_ angry at David, then. I must have said some pretty outrageous things during that yelling spree.

Maybe one of Kurt's relatives owned the shop. I was sure it was connected to him in some way. After all, you didn't find many people with a porcelain figure for a last name. Maybe Kurt even helped out here, with the paperwork or something. Kurt _had_ said he went to McKinley, which was in Lima. Seeing him would definitely brighten up my mood.

Jim pushed the car inside, and asked us to wait, as he went deeper into the shop, presumably to get the guy he had been talking about earlier. He emerged a few moments later, with a very, very familiar voice tinkling after him

"-telling you, Jim, you should learn to fix up costlier cars. The ones you do are no fun. And what if I wasn't here? Who would have fixed it?"

Jim chuckled, "Well, we would have waited for you, of course. And I don't work for _fun, _little boss. I work for the money."

A Kurt Hummel with _overalls_ tied around his waist rolled his eyes. I made a feeble attempt to pick my jaw off the floor. "Good to know, Jim. And _don't _call me that." He was smiling, and his biceps were practically _rippling _under the plain white tee-shirt as he swung an iron, sturdy-looking tool box back and forth.

Kurt finally looked in our direction. "Where's the c-"

Kurt's eyes widened. He looked between the three of us for a full minute before Jim cleared his throat, saying, "You know these guys, little boss?"

Kurt shook his head exclaiming, "Blaine! What are you _doing _here?"

My mouth worked around words for a moment before I managed to get my voice out. "Um-David's-David's car, it- and we were stuck-and-"

"David's car broke down. We called the shop so we could get back to Dalton. You're wearing overalls." Wes spoke up, sounding just as shocked as I felt.

Kurt looked at him, then _ran his fingers through his hair._ He turned to Jim, "Hey, I'll handle this one. Do you think you can get started on the Toyota?"

Jim looked between us, then smirked slightly in Kurt's direction, before saying, "Sure thing, little boss."

Kurt glared at the back of his head, then turned back to us and sighed.

"Okay, tell me what happened." He said, walking over to the car.

I shook my head, saying, "What? You aren't going to explain? _Kurt!"_

Kurt looked at me, "What's there to explain? I work here. I like it. Yes, although my looks might make it hard to believe, I have been a certified mechanic since I was 14. I won't hurt your Mustang." He rolled his eyes at the last part.

"It's not mine. It's David's. Kurt. May I repeat that you're wearing overalls?"

Kurt glared. "You've repeated it several times. What exactly is so surprising about it?" The three of us stared at him blankly and he sighed resignedly.

"Okay, you tell me what happened to the car, and I'll answer your questions while I'm working. Deal?"

"Okay. Deal." I replied.

"We were going to watch the Harry Potter rerun, and then the car started spluttering, and then it just stopped."

Kurt nodded, considering, "Okay. Pop the hood. And how long has it been since you got it serviced?" He directed this towards David, who popped the hood, and then thought for a moment before answering, "Um, last year? No, last New Years'", he finished, nodding to himself.

Kurt paused on his way to the car, gaping at David, "What the _fuck _is wrong with you?"

I stared. Wes gaped. David shrunk under Kurt's glare. Kurt was hot when he swore. Okay, I could handle that. I could handle that. I just didn't think I could handle that combined with the overalls and the smudges of grease on his face, and his chest and his _arms._ I didn't think my waiting it out plan would go very well if I pushed Kurt up against the car and ravished him. I focused on breathing slowly, while Kurt continued to glare at David, who looked confused and very, very scared.

"You have a _Mustang. _A _beautiful,_ _rare _model Mustang. And you let her suffer forover a _year?"_

"I'm sorry?" David tried. Kurt scoffed and turned to the car, setting the box of tools beside him. I tried very hard not to focus on his biceps as he lifted up a heavy-looking tool.

"Okay, so it looks like your transmission is completely blown. You can wait-it would take a long time-or I could ask one of the guys to drive you back, or I could drive you myself, but it would be better for the shop if I stayed. The only other one here that can handle cars like yours is Derek, and he's celebrating with his wife today. Asked for a day off a week ago. So what do you want to do?"

I quickly glanced at the others and when they nodded, turned back to Kurt, saying "We'll wait."

Kurt nodded, "Alright, then, I guess I'll have to start answering then, huh? What do you want to know?"

"What do you mean, you're certified?", I asked.

"Well, it means that I took the test, and now I'm qualified to be a professional mechanic. Not that I'd want to. I mean, I love cars, but that's definitely not what I want to do with my life."

"Why does that guy keep calling you little boss?", Wes asked.

Kurt hesitated this time. "Well, this shop, it-it used to belong to my", he inhaled deeply, "to my Dad. And well, he was Boss, and Jim's been working here since I was a toddler. This doesn't belong to my Dad anymore. It's legally my aunt's, but I'm the one who manages things here. Hence the name."

Kurt didn't tell us what had happened with his Dad, why he didn't own the shop anymore, and Wes looked like he wanted to ask more, but I shot him a look and he kept quiet. I knew that Kurt avoided certain topics, and his family was one of them. Wes didn't know that, though, so I hoped he would listen to me and not pry. The last thing I wanted was Kurt getting upset.

"Well, I didn't think I'd see this day before I died, anyway. Kurt Hummel in overalls", I smirked.

Kurt glared at me, but I didn't back down. "Not a word, Anderson. Not a word. Don't you dare tell anyone about this. I'm covered in grease, in _public. _If you tell anyone else about this, and I die of humiliation, then I will haunt you so bad, Blaine. I'll be a fashionable, mean, _mean_ ghost."

I hid my grin behind my hand. That was the Kurt I knew.


	8. Chapter 7

**Hey, guys. I was nervous about posting the previous chapter, because I was worried it would seem forced or awkward, but I couldn't leave it out because I love mechanic Kurt. But thankyou all so much for the amazing response. Thankyou for reviewing and following and favouriting. As for my schedule, I'm a 14 year old high school student, who goes to a private school in India, so tons and tons of work. But I will try my very best to produce chapters quickly, without making it shitty.**

**This the longest chapter yet.**

**Chapter 7**

I was grinning as I made my way over to C wing, a spring in my step. Kurt and I had officially been real friends for a month-the weeks when we were tentatively exploring an acquaintanceship notwithstanding. I hadn't told Kurt about our mensiversary; I wasn't going to either. I didn't know of many other people who celebrated friendship anniversaries, let alone _mensi_versaries. I didn't want to look like a weirdo to Kurt. Unlike a month ago, I didn't freak out at the thought of my dependence on Kurt's opinion and approval of me. I figured that was another thing to celebrate.

When I got to Kurt's room and knocked, I didn't get a response immediately. I was all poised to knock again when Kurt answered. He was wearing a sweatshirt with 'Hummel's Tyres and Lube' written in faded letters. I smirked. I had taken every opportunity possible to tease Kurt about his grease monkey alter ego. That is, whenever I could suppress my arousal long enough to think properly. I never knew I had a kink like that. I generally shied away from dirt and sweat, and found it gross. But on Kurt, it was just mind-numbingly _hot_. I pointedly avoided thinking about how Kurt had looked in that fitted white tee-shirt and nodded towards the shirt.

"Planning to get some grease under your fingernails again, Hummel?"

Kurt bitch glared. I smirked wider. He was adorable. He punched me in the shoulder and I winced. With the amount of time I spent thinking about the episode in the shop, I shouldn't have disregarded the strength the biceps I'd ogled had shown.

"Sorry?", I tried, pouting. Kurt did not melt, but I could see his resolve breaking. He scoffed and walked back into his room, and I followed, smiling triumphantly. I knew when I was forgiven.

"So, are you going home this weekend?", I asked as we settled onto his bed, Kurt grabbing an issue of Vogue from his desk.

Kurt hummed, "Maybe. I'll head down to the shop for sure, but I think I'll just come back here."

I nodded. He'd done that on most weekends, the only exception being the one we'd run into him at the shop during. I was curious. Not that most of us went home every weekend or anything, but that was because most of us shared the same situation-stuffy interconnected rich families.

"Don't you want to visit your family?" It was out before I knew it, and I immediately wanted to kick myself. Kurt had tensed up, and had yet to say anything. I'd _told_ myself I wouldn't pry, and then I'd gone and asked him something he _never_ talked about.

"I'm-sorry. I didn't mean to overstep or anything, God I'm such a jackass. I can go, if you want me to." Kurt didn't say anything, and I made to leave, cursing internally all the while.

"Wait." Kurt's quiet voice stopped me, just as I reached for the doorknob.

I turned around, ready to grovel, but Kurt was looking at me, so much sadness in his eyes that I forgot to breathe for a second.

"Come here, please?"

I nodded slightly frantically, and reclaimed my seat. I was at a loss as to what I could do to offer him some comfort.

Kurt wasn't looking at me now, though, choosing instead to stare at the far wall. He seemed to be considering something.

"Blaine, we're friends, right?", he asked when he turned to face me.

My eyes were wide as I told him, "Of course, Kurt. Why do you even have to ask that?"

Kurt stared at me intently for a long moment. Finally he swallowed, and looked at me with determination showing clearly on his face.

"I- My mom, she, uh, she died when I was much younger. When I was eight. She had cancer, and I think I always knew something was wrong, you know, when she started getting weak. I asked her and my Dad a couple of times, but they would just look at me, and they wouldn't say anything. And then one day I got home from school and it was empty, and I remember having to let myself in with the spare key; then my Dad got home he tried to explain it to me, and I don't remember much of anything after that. The next thing I knew I was walking into a cemetery and they were putting her in a _box, _and that's when I really broke down. I made a scene, kicking and screaming, and my Dad had to pull me away. He cried too, then. He hugged me, and we cried, because she was _gone_."

My heart clenched. I imagined a younger Kurt, feeling so lost, how he must have felt. Even though I wasn't close with my parents, it had still hurt that time they'd went on that trip and Mom had fractured her ankle. I couldn't _imagine _how I would feel if either of them _died. _Kurt was crying, and I wanted to hug him. But I didn't know how receptive he would be to that, so I settled for taking his hand. Kurt smiled, albeit a small one, but I wouldn't expect much else when he was so distressed.

"After that it was just me and Dad. For a long time after that, Dad was so broken up that he would work long hours, and when he was home, he'd lock himself up in his room, and forget about everything else. He'd forget about me, too. So I learned to take care of myself. I dug out some of Mom's old cooking recipes and learned how to cook. Dad wouldn't eat either, so I started bringing him meals, and the first time I did, he cried. He knew it was Mom's recipe. After that, he didn't work so long, and he started making an effort. We started having Friday night dinners again (that was one of Mom's traditions).

"Dad didn't understand me a lot of the time. I think he knew about my being gay since I was little. I was always different. I didn't want to play outside with the other boys. I wanted to have tea parties instead. And Dad-well, the textbook definition of a straight American would be about right. He drank beer while watching football games, couldn't cook to save his life, and I was just the opposite, really.

"We couldn't really relate. We couldn't really talk. But he tried so much. He tried to understand. He even had a tea party with me once. And we were fine. When either of us was upset, we would comfort each other. I think it helped just to know that we were _there_, that we weren't gone. That just because Mom was gone, we wouldn't stop functioning, we _couldn't _stop functioning, that we'd make it.

"And then high school started up, and it was, I won't lie, Blaine, it was _hard._ I mean, the first time someone called me a fag was when I was six. I looked the part; I didn't really understand what it meant, until I asked my mom and she explained it to me. She said it was a bad word and that it was perfectly okay, and that some people just liked taking other people down. And it followed me around to elementary school. But words I could handle, you know. But freshman year, a guy with a Mohawk cornered my and threw me into a dumpster." My eyes widened, "Are you talking about Puck?" I asked as my fists clenched.

"Yeah. I mentioned that he wasn't always my friend, right? Well, he used to be one of my biggest bullies until he joined Glee."

I could feel my face pull into an angry frown. Kurt noticed and said, "Hey, calm down. He's-well, he's come a long way. I couldn't have imagined that I'd have Puck for one of my _best _friends a few years ago. And he couldn't have imagined the same with me. But now, he's been there for me for some of the hardest parts of my life since I met him. And he's the only other one I've actually told the things I'm going to tell you."

I calmed down slightly at his reassurances, though my anger didn't leave me completely. I knew Puck was important to Kurt, and I knew there had to be a reason for that. I sighed. "Okay. I'm sorry for interrupting. I know this is hard for you.", I said softly.

Kurt smiled and squeezed back. "Honestly, I-I've wanted to tell you for some time now. You're important to me, too, you know? It feels good to get it all out."

I smiled and squeezed back. God, I wanted to kiss him so much then. But I wouldn't take advantage. He was trusting me with a huge part of him, and I loved him so much for it. Wait...

I forced myself to not freak out. This moment was _not _about me. It was about Kurt, and I wanted to know everything about him. And I wouldn't let my stupid mind interfere in Kurt baring himself so much.

"Freshman year pretty much followed the same pattern-morning dumpster toss, slushie attack after first period, and then whatever innovative bullying method they could find that would torment me until lunch, then another slushie and maybe another dumpster toss. And this was not including the numerous locker shoves that punctuated the end of every class."

I was sure my face was an unattractive mixture of horrified and absolutely fucking furious, and Kurt stopped, looking over at me hesitantly.

"They physically _hurt_ you? And what the _fuck _is a slushie facial."

"I'm used to it, Blaine; and at least I'm away from it all now, right? And a slushie facial is when they throw one of those iced drinks you get for fifty cents, in our face. Or whatever other body part they feel like freezing until it's numb."

"Kurt, what the fuck! Didn't anyone _do _anything? The teachers? Didn't you complain?"

Kurt looked at me with what looked like pity. "Blaine, how much exactly do you know about public schools?"

I stared at him, wondering what his point was.

"Blaine, they don't care. No one cares. The teachers are all probably just as homophobic, and the ones who aren't are too afraid to do anything even when it happens right before their eyes. When I complained to Principal Figgins when I was still too naive to understand that, he gave me a speech about how it was the way high school worked, and that there wasn't anything he could do about it. Then he reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a brochure for straight camp, and gave it to me. I stormed out without giving him another look, which of course, resulted in detention for a week. Blaine, those people only act when it's convenient. The only exception was Coach Sylvester, and even she couldn't do much, because everything had to be approved by the school board."

I felt like crying, then, because I couldn't imagine surviving in a place like that for even a day. And Kurt had done it for over two _years. _The thing was, I wouldn't have _had_ to survive there. My parents would have pulled me out in an instant. This led me to ask, "What did your Dad have to say about it?"

Kurt seemed to understand what I was trying to ask, and said, "I never told him anything, Blaine. I believed I could handle it. When things got worse in my sophomore year, I wanted to tell him; but then he had a heart attack, and the doctor said he shouldn't have too much stress, and I didn't want to burden him. My Dad had grown fiercely protective of me, ever since he picked up one of those anonymous phone calls that I usually managed to keep out of his notice.

"This year was the worst. Something-happened. I'm not ready to say what, but it was horrible, and my Dad found out, and he was so angry and sad and worried. I was scared he was going to have another heart attack, but he pulled through for me. He took care of me. But two months later, I was in my PoliSci class, and one of my teachers came and informed me that my Dad had been in a car crash, and that-that he hadn't made it. A _car crash_. Two seconds, maybe three, and my D-dad just _died."_

Kurt was openly sobbing, and I didn't resist the urge to hug him this time. I pulled him close so that he was practically in my lap, with his head resting on my chest. I ran my fingers through his hair, and I realized I was crying as well. I whispered nonsensical things I couldn't even remember after I said them, and rocked him back and forth. Eventually, his sobs died down, and he tensed for a split second before he relaxed again. I asked him, my voice muffled into his hair, "Where-where do you live now?"

"With my aunt", he replied quietly, "she-she's not here half the time, on business trips and everything, and I didn't even know she existed until the child services officers came and told me she'd offered to take me in. She owns the shop, and she didn't sell it because she knew it was important to me. She lets me run it, since she won't be able to, because of her schedule. We-it's still awkward, we don't know anything about each other, so I opt out of going to her house except for the once a month she's made compulsory. Kind of ungrateful, huh."

I shushed him gently, "No, Kurt. It's- I can't imagine going through that, and I can't imagine how hurt you must be. You're allowed to be sad, and you're allowed to be wary. And I'm so sorry. God, Kurt. The things you've been through. I wish I could make it go away. But I'm here, Kurt. You can cry on me, you can scream at me, you can do whatever, because I won't leave you. I won't, I promise."

And I knew that, even without the promise, I wouldn't dream of ever leaving Kurt alone.


	9. Chapter 8

**Hi, guys. Long time no see. I'm so sorry for the late update, but it's just that my schedule is so cramped. I mean, I have a 10 day vacation now, for Onam, an Indian festival, but I have three **_**huge**_** reports to submit at the end of the vacation, **_**plus **_**I have to work on a submission for an exhibition that takes place on the first day after the vacation(that's by choice, though. Too good to pass up). **

**Anyway, thankyou all for not giving up on me, and being patient, and reviewing and following and favouriting. And this chapter does NOT FOCUS ON KLAINE, BUT IS STILL IMPORTANT. This was one of the important points on my outline, but it was difficult to write, for some reason, and I'm glad it's done. I hope you guys enjoy reading it more than I did writing it. If you hate my portrayal of Wes and David, please don't un-follow this story, because they only have small parts compared to Klaine. **

**Also, reviews are love. Please? Don't deny a fourteen year old Indian with NO ALLOWANCE?**

**Chapter 8**

After that day in Kurt's room when he had broken down, I could sense a change in our relationship. Kurt sensed it too. We'd both become less hesitant about touching each other; there was always a casual arm around a shoulder, or a nudge of the elbow, or sometimes, a more intimate moment of a hand slipping into the other. Kurt would sometimes tell me little titbits about his parents-I learned that he and his Mom had loved baking together, singing along to whatever was playing on the radio, and making a mess out of the kitchen. I learned that Kurt had started helping out at the shop when he was five; his Dad would guide him, and Kurt was the ever enthusiastic learner; he'd told me that, rather than bringing up sad memories of his Dad, working at the shop helped sooth him. Moreover, the air between us had been altered. There was something heavy, not noticeable enough to make our time together awkward, but still noticeable. I had yet to decide if it was a welcome change or not.

I had caught myself staring at Kurt when he had his back turned to me, on more than one occasion. I'd realized that I actually loved the boy, and I was unsure of what to do with this new knowledge. That day, after Kurt had fallen asleep on my chest and it was time for curfew, I had pressed a kiss to the top of his head and made my way over to my room, and then proceeded to freak out for about an hour. I'm sure Trent had given me at least a few odd looks, as I went about rearranging the contents of my room for the tenth time in a row. Then I'd taken a shower, hoping it would clear my head, and tried to fall asleep. But in the end, my actions just drove home the point that I was powerless to resist whatever effect Kurt Hummel had on me. He was different from anyone I'd ever known. He was strong, God, so strong-he'd been to hell and back, and he'd still managed to stand upright; he was absolutely beautiful, he was smart, witty and sarcastic, he was fashionable, he matched me in his love of all things Harry Potter, the list could go on forever. Of course, I knew that he wasn't perfect. He had his moments of extreme bitchiness, he had trouble accepting help of any sort from anyone, and he was the grumpiest person alive if he didn't have his morning coffee. But none of these, I'd come to learn, made me love him any less. If anything, they just added to the appeal. He wasn't perfect, but he was perfect for me.

But I didn't know that he even liked me back. We were definitely close friends, and I knew he trusted me. But that didn't have to involve romantic feelings at all. He could simply want me as a friend. Every time I considered asking him out, it was this thought that stopped me. What if I asked him, and he turned me down? Then our friendship would be over. Maybe not necessarily over, but it would be awkward. And I couldn't let that happen, not after all the time we'd spent working on our fragile bond. It was strong now, but there were still things Kurt was holding back, and something like this could damage all the progress he had made in trusting someone enough to tell them. As much as I might want to pursue a relationship with him, I couldn't bring myself to set Kurt back in the process, and risk losing him.

But still, thoughts of loving Kurt, taking care of him, holding him, kissing him, were the ones that my mind was consumed with, every waking moment in the form of frantic whispers from my subconscious, and during the night, in the form of beautiful dreams that seemed to be surrounded by a soft aura that kept it from disturbing my sleep. These dreams always left me waking up with a smile on my face. This was different from when I had some decidedly more..non-PG dreams. Those resulted in either sticky sheets, or me rutting against the bed. _Those _dreams left me feeling agitated, rather than content.

I knew I had to do something to remedy the situation. But I was at a loss as to what. So I decided to do what I always did when I was confused-consult my best friends. Although they were more than slightly eccentric, I knew I could count on them if something was genuinely bothering me, and I needed guidance.

888

I found Wes and David together, which was not something surprising-on the contrary, it would be concerning if they were _not _found together. I had my suspicions that they were joined at the hip right from when they were mere foetuses. They were huddled together on David's bed, reading Twilight.

I suppressed a chuckle, and cleared my throat to grab their attention. In perfect sync, they looked up at the same time, then looked at each other with one raised eyebrow each, and then back at me again.

"Why Blaine, it's nice to see you again." Wes spoke up while David looked at me with that creepy raised eyebrow.

"Yes, Blaine, whatever have you been up to?"

"We hardly see you anymore, so we figure it must be something life-changing that's been taking up your time, like finding a cure for cancer, am I right, Blaine?"

Then they both just _looked _at me expectantly, and I squirmed uncomfortably, even as I tried to process what they just said. Had I really been neglecting them? Sure, Kurt took up a lot of my time, and I often found myself rushing to reach my room before curfew simply because I'd lost track of time while hanging out with him. But Wes and David were my best friends, the people I'd trusted for such a long time, and I'd been ignoring them?

"Guys..", I was at a loss for words. I hadn't realized they'd felt so left out. I supposed I _had _been spending a lot of time either with Kurt or thinking about Kurt. Now I felt like crap. I'd hurt the only people I'd cared about for a long time. And even though I now cared about Kurt too, extremely, it was unacceptable that I'd just shunned the two of them.

Wes' eyes softened, and he put down the book; David put it on his nightstand, and patted the spot beside them on the bed. I went willingly. I just hoped they would forgive me.

"Come on, Blaine, we're not mad. We know Kurt's been taking up your time, and we know you wouldn't just ditch us like that with no reason", David said reassuringly.

I sighed and rubbed a palm over my face and hair, releasing my curls from the large amount of gel.

"I-Guys, I'm sorry. I didn't even know I'd been spending that much time with Kurt. It's just-he's so amazing, and when I'm with him, I can barely focus, and I just-I didn't know. Sorry", I finished lamely.

Wes rubbed a hand down my back. "It's _alright_, Blaine. Look, we-in the beginning we thought that Kurt was just another conquest, and when you started spending all that time with him, we thought you'd managed to bed him, and were just having fun. Of course, we didn't _want _Kurt to be just another conquest, like we already told you, not only because of the conditions of his transfer, but also because we thought it was time you found someone to be interested in. Someone to go on dates with, someone to hold hands with, and all that romantic shit", Wes paused, and David took the cue, just like he always did.

"And then you introduced Kurt to us, and we knew it was happening. You like that kid, Blaine. A lot. It was obvious. And Kurt's important to you, don't deny it, we know he is. So we don't care that you spend time with him. It's just that we missed seeing you, and having you around. We're best friends, Blaine."

To my horror, I felt myself tearing up. I pretended to rub my face again to cover it up, and muttered softly but sincerely, "Thanks, guys."

They grinned, and I knew what was going to happen split seconds before it did. David shouted "GROUP HUG" loud enough for all of B wing to hear, and they pounced on me, squishing my internal organs with their combined weight.

"Cant-breathe.." I managed to gasp out finally, and they chuckled before letting me go, and straightening out their blazers.

"Anyway, what did you come here for? We know it wasn't just to enjoy our privileged company. You had your I'm-a-clueless-hobbit-and-I-need-your-almighty-gen ius-minds-to-help-me face on.

I rolled my eyes, prepared to quip back at them; then, as my focus was drawn to what I had come here for, I sighed deeply, suddenly feeling exhausted.

I chanced a look up and saw that Wes and David both looked concerned. This was rare for them, but I was one of those lucky enough to profit from those looks. They had given me great advice countless times over the course of our friendship, and they had never once let me down. When I had not heeded their advice, it had resulted badly for me. Now I knew to trust them no matter how crazy they sounded.

"It's Kurt", I confessed.

"Okay, what about Kurt?", David asked.

"It's-I really, really like him. I knew Kurt had had a rough past, so I didn't want to burden him with a relationship, and I also didn't want him to reject me, so I decided to wait it out and then decide if he liked me back, and if he was ready for a relationship, and then ask him out. But then Kurt opened up to me about his past, and then I realized I'm in love with him, and now I don't know what the fuck I'm supposed to do." I finished narrating my problem in one breath, and then, thoroughly spent, flopped backwards on the bed.

Wes and David had identical looks of shock on their faces, and I couldn't really blame them. I didn't feel as burdened by my realization now, though. I'd confessed to Wes and David. Now it was their problem what I was supposed to do.

David swallowed roughly and spoke up, "You're in love with Kurt?"

I sighed dreamily, "Yup."

Wes cleared his throat, and after sharing a look with David, started talking, "Okay, Blaine, first of all, we're happy for you. David is just too deep in shock to be able to express the sentiment properly. Right David?", he asked, nudging David, who nodded with wide eyes.

"Now, second of all, it is _not _up to you to decide whether Kurt is ready for a relationship or not. You're a kid, too, Blaine. And Kurt's a smart guy. He knows what he wants. You have no right to make that decision for him. Are we clear?"

I nodded, feeling guilty. Wes was right. Kurt knew if he wanted to try out a relationship or now. I might know him better than a lot of others, but not as well as Kurt knew his own heart and mind.

"And lastly, it's as obvious that Kurt likes you as it is that you like him. He cares for you at least a little bit. And if he did, in fact, open up to you about what he's been through, then he obviously trusts you. Even if he doesn't like you", Wes held up a hand, seeing my slightly panicked expression, "and that is a _huge _if, then he still won't be cruel about rejecting you, because you're friends. And you and Kurt are _best_ friends, Blaine. You became best friends really fast. And you trust each other, you bare your hearts to each other, and that kind of bond can't be broken just because you ask him out on a date, Blaine. Even if it's awkward for a couple of weeks if it doesn't work out, you'll still be best friends. And love is about taking risks. If you're that reluctant, then maybe you should think it out, if it's worth fighting for. If _Kurt_ is worth fighting for."

Damn, Wes sure knew how to give a speech. It was that last line that did it. Kurt was the most precious thing in my life. I was in love with him. I was in love with Kurt Hummel, and that right there, was something worth fighting for.


	10. Chapter 9

**Hey, guys, I am so, so sorry for the delay. I just had such a bad case of writer's block, and schoolwork is suffocating me. I'm not particularly proud of this chapter, either. My deepest apologies. The next one will hopefully be better.**

**Chapter 9**

_Deep breaths, Blaine. There you go. There's no reason to freak out. Just breathe. _That was what I was chanting over and over like a mantra inside my head as I headed out to the courtyard where I'd asked Kurt to meet me.

I'd spent all of last week trying to think of the perfect way to ask Kurt out; I'd gone as far as planning a ride on a hot air balloon with a backup chorus for the serenade. David had literally slapped some sense into me after that one. It had worked, surprisingly.

Even though Kurt did deserve the very best of everything, that one would be going a bit overboard. It was sort of like the Gap debacle. That had gotten the Warblers banned from the store, and the unfortunate victim of my affections fired. And the absolute last thing I wanted was for Kurt to turn me down because I couldn't keep my overenthusiastic and outlandish ideas tamed.

So after a lot of deliberation, I had decided to keep it simple. Just ask him straight out. There was no need for anything else. What was different about Kurt was that though he made me extremely nervous in regards to our relationship, I always felt at home in his presence. I never felt like I had to be something I wasn't. I could be a dork and he wouldn't judge me. I could rant about my parents and their uptight ways for hours and he would give his own snarky commentary, never once snapping at me for being the whiny bitch that I was. And I never lied to him.

Kurt would like honesty more than a huge public spectacle; I knew for a fact that Kurt appreciated the simplicity of things-with the obvious exception of clothes of course. And I also knew logically that ultimately my methods would have nothing to do with Kurt's answer. If he felt the same way, he would say yes to a date with me, and if not, he would say no. It was as simple as that. But maybe I just wanted something to blame in case things went the wrong way.

I found Kurt facing away from me, seemingly staring at nothing. I took the opportunity to truly observe him, and I was once again it was like a punch to the gut, how beautiful and otherworldly he was. I almost felt reluctant to break him out of his trance. And I almost considered using that as an excuse to run away, but then that creepy voice that sounded like Wes reminded me that _I _was the one who had asked him to meet me here, and _no,_ I couldn't just leave.

So I took another deep breath and called out his name. He jolted slightly, but then turned in my direction, his lips curling into a soft smile when he recognized me. That did crazy things to my heart, but I forced myself to focus. I held out a hand for him, returning the smile, and as he took it, led him over to a bench. I started fiddling with my tie, a nervous habit that Kurt always reprimanded me for("You can't just treat clothes, no matter how horrible and mundane, so casually, Blaine. They're _clothes!"_).

Kurt reached for my hand and lowered it back down, catching my eye with a curious gaze.

"What did you want to talk about, Blaine?", he asked, ever patient, unwavering.

I took a deep breath, and then let it out all in a rush. I looked into those ever-changing eyes (glasz, I'd come to learn) and took Kurt's hand, again noting how perfectly it fit in mine. "Kurt. I-well, I've wanted to say this for a while. Since a few weeks after we met, actually. Um", I laughed nervously, "I-want to ask you if..you'd consider going out with me." I finished carefully.

Kurt looked confused. "Go out with you? What do you mean?"

I resisted the urge to back out, ask him for our usual coffee not-dates, or something, but then determination filled me. Wes was right. There were thousands of other people who could see exactly how wonderful Kurt was and could man up before I did. I wasn't about to let this chance go.

"I mean, as in a date. I want to take you out-on a date." It was done. I'd put myself out there. It felt like relief, somehow.

Kurt looked alarmed, though. Oh, God, he was going to turn me down, I could feel it.

"Blaine, what-" he rubbed a hand over his face, and I could feel my heart plummet to my stomach. I'd ruined it. Kurt didn't see me as anything more than a friend.

"I'm sorry, Kurt", I whispered, "I didn't want to make things weird. This was precisely why I was so reluctant to ask you." I put my head in my hands, trying to blink back the tears. "Fuck. Damnit!" I made to get up, but Kurt's voice, quietly desperate, called after me.

"Blaine. No. Please, wait. Sit down." I did so, avoiding his eyes.

"Blaine, please look at me?" he pleaded, and fuck, could I deny him anything?

"Blaine, it's not what you think. You didn't make it awkward. And I want to, so badly, Blaine. I like you, so, so much more than you know."

Hope bloomed anew in my chest, and I looked him dead in the eye. "Then why? Why don't you want to be with me?" I asked, taking his hand again, and rubbing my thumb over his knuckles.

He let out a choked sob, and my heart ached. "I want to, Blaine, I do. But you don't-don't know why I transferred. You don't know how much baggage I have. You wouldn't like me if you did. It's-it's bad, and I don't want to lose you because of it. No one. No one could want to be with someone like me. I wish I could erase it all, but I can't. And I like you so much. I just-I don't know how to handle this.", he managed in the middle of sobs and sniffling, and I pulled him into my chest with no hesitation.

"Shh, Kurt. It's okay. Honey, I've got you.", I cooed at him, until he calmed down.

"Listen. Kurt. You _can't _think like that." He made to protest, but I held up a finger. "Please, just let me say this. Kurt, before I met you, I didn't care who I slept with. I hooked up at least twice a week, with whoever I could find, and I drank, and partied, and I even got high once. But that person, I don't like him. And the fact is that he doesn't exist now. He hasn't, ever since I met you. You are so amazing, and unique, and you have no idea how much I feel for you. You make me nervous, and I _never_ get nervous. You made me want to introduce you to my best friends, and I've never done that with anyone before. Not a single person. You move me, Kurt, and you've changed me more than you can imagine. You make me feel..like coming home after spending forever in some strange place. And you know what, I don't care if you have baggage. I don't care what you think makes it impossible for you to be in a relationship, because it _isn't true.", _I made sure to look him in the eye as I said this, because he needed to at least start to believe it. I was laying everything I had on the line for the first time in my life, and it was unbelievably liberating. "I want to make you feel special. I want to hold you, and take you on cliché dates, and serenade you, because that's how you deserve to be treated. Alright, Kurt? Just go on one date with me. Just one. Let me show you that what you believe isn't true. I'm not above begging.."

Kurt smiled a bit at that, then looked at me for a long moment before sighing. "One date."

I beamed at him, and he shook his head long-sufferingly.


	11. Chapter 10

**Hey again, guys. I am so, so, so terribly sorry. But this week was so hectic-with two midterms in one day, continuously for five days, and I just haven't had the time. But exams finally finished today, and as I breathed in a sigh of relief, I decided that the first thing I needed to do was type up a chapter. I promised someone an update by last Monday, thinking I would get a chance to write during the weekend. But that plan slipped away from me. I'm sorry. Thank you for sticking with me even after this. **

**You'll notice that there is a striking difference in this chapter. I apologize in advance if you hate it, but I started typing like I usually do, but I **_**had **_**to go back and erase it all; it just didn't feel right. This chapter belongs to Kurt.**

**Chapter 10**

The only thing I could think when I stood in front of my dressing table that Saturday night, deliberating between a pale blue dress shirt and a white dress shirt with a skinny tie, was _There is no way this is actually happening. _But it seemed that as much as I tried to burst my own little happy bubble, it actually was true. Kurt Hummel was going on his very first date. _I_, pale-skinned, and pudgy, and the favourite target of every Neanderthal jock that roamed the halls of William McKinley High School, was going on a date. With a boy, not a blonde cheerleader in hopes of gaining the favour of my father. And not just any boy-this was a gay, absolutely gorgeous, out-of-this-world, Blaine Anderson. I was beginning to think that there was no way I could ever completely wrap my mind around the fact that he, apparently, was interested in me.

The time I'd spent in his company was some of the greatest in my entire life. He had accepted me, no _invited _me into his life so effortlessly, so sincerely. I wasn't stupid, I knew that, no-tolerance policy or not, someone like him would never have glanced my way without shunning me. But for some reason, he had been the first to approach me in my time at Dalton. And even though I had freaked out on him, and probably given off weird crazy Carrie vibes, he had tried again. And something about him that morning over coffee had made me want to trust him. No one else would have taken the time to deal with someone so obviously broken like me. He was a wonderful person-he might not believe it himself, but he was the best person I had ever met.

In some ways, he reminded me of my mother; even in her weakest moments, she gave me and my dad the comfort and reassurance that we both needed. She had been beautiful-in every way. Graceful and calm, in her every moment. I used to think she was an angel-there was no way someone so composed, and so altogether _divine _could be human. I'd never been a religious guy, but it gave me comfort to think that, maybe, she really was an angel now. Blaine reminded me of her in his quiet strength-he lost control of his emotions sometimes, yes, but whenever I needed someone to lean on, he was there-an ever-present pillar of reassurance and warmth. I always felt safe in his presence-he had a calming effect on me. I never felt like I needed words when I was with him-like he could just understand how I felt. I'd only ever felt like that with her before. Dad had tried to understand-of course, it was us against the world, but he couldn't completely understand.

Blaine was beautiful, too. He didn't flaunt it, it was just there. It was a part of him, just plain fact. It was just something that you observe when you first glance at him. Obviously I had been too out of it to see it when I first saw him, but when I really looked at him that next day, it was only too clear to my eyes.

And his music-that was when I felt like I could actually see my mother again. I had never seen my mother perform, and I hadn't seen Blaine sing with the Warblers, either. But in my room, while watching some old classic on Netflix, he would suddenly burst into song, completely in his element, and I would be struck with how Mom used to sing as she danced around the kitchen during a baking session, trying to coax me to join in. And of course, I always had, with her.

But I hadn't sung since McKinley. And that was exactly the reason I had been so reluctant to agree to this date. Because Blaine may somehow like the Kurt he knew now, but he didn't know what had happened to make me suddenly transfer. He wouldn't stay with me if he knew. I knew I would have to tell him eventually, I owed him that, but I couldn't stand to lose him. It would be bad enough losing him as a friend, but losing him as something more-that could possibly shatter me completely. I knew without doubt that if I let myself pursue this relationship, there would be no going back. I would have fallen for him completely. And when I inevitably lost him, I would lose everything I had left.

But then why had I agreed? Was I masochistic-craving the pain that would undoubtedly come with the end of this? Or was I lying to myself, saying that I would be able to turn him down after this date?

I knew that that wouldn't happen. If I got a taste of what could be something great, then there was no way I could turn Blaine down. I couldn't see that look on his face and then live with myself. And if I did manage to turn him down, I didn't think I would survive it either.

Heartbreak would be inevitable either way. So was it so wrong of me to want to enjoy it while it lasted?


	12. Chapter 11

**Hey again, guys. I know it's been a long while, but if I start talking about why I was so damn late, that's going to take up a lot of space, so I won't go into it. Let's just say real life hit me like a train wreck. But if anyone cares enough to know, feel free to PM me. But anyway, this is long enough to make up for the short previous chapter (thank you for putting up with that, by the way). In this one, we'll actually get somewhere, and I hope to get the next chapter out soon, since tomorrow is a half day for us, and then there's the weekend. Well, enjoy, and please review? Maybe?**

**Chapter 11**

"Stop that!" ,David snapped at me, batting my hand away from my mouth. I guess I deserved it. I had been religiously chewing on my nails for about half an hour, while pacing back and forth in my room. David and Wes were, unfortunately, the witnesses to my minor panic attack_. _This was taking place one and a half hour before my date with Kurt. I could honestly say that Blaine Anderson was officially freaking out._ And why shouldn't I? I had a date with an amazing guy, one I had been crushing on for months, and I wasn't even sure if Kurt would agree to try out being in a relationship. Kurt was jumpy, he hadn't, by the looks of things, been in a relationship before, he was extremely doubtful that things would work out between us, he was only going on this date because I had practically forced him to, he had some sort of baggage that he believed would be a deal breaker, and __oh fuck, this is never going to work, fuck, fuck, fuck-_

"HEY!", was all I heard before there was a stinging pain in my cheek. My eyes widened.

Wes had slapped me. God, what was it with my friends and their incessant urge to use physical violence to get their points across? I really should rethink my association with them.

At that moment though, I just glared at Wes incredulously. "What the fuck, Wesley?"

Wes scrunched up his nose at me at the name, but let it go. I was sure I would suffer for it later. He didn't answer, just looked at me with a Duh look, as if his purpose for disfiguring my face was obvious.

"It was either that or cold water. And you're all dressed up, hence the actions that led to the look on your face at the moment", David noted drily from the bed. He looked like he would rather be anywhere else. I didn't blame him. This new side of me-Nervous Train Wreck Blaine-was absolute hell to deal with.

Wes pushed me down into my desk chair, and then took his rightful place at David's side. They shared a look, and then looked at me with a typical _we're your parents and we know best so listen to us look._ I was way past the point where that would creep me out, so I decided to just listen to what they had to say.

Wes started, in all his Warbler Head Councillor formality. Yet another thing that failed to awaken any sort of reaction in me whatsoever after spending so much time with him.

"Blaine, when you asked us to come here, we assumed that it was merely a matter of a wardrobe crisis, which is a common occurrence before one's first date. We assumed that you required our assistance in choosing what to wear, and what not to wear, as we posses prior experience from our numerous dates with young girls from Crawford Country Day."

"Well, Wes assumed that. _ I _assumed that you wanted us to see if Kurt would sleep with you with the state of your abs now. You know, you've been out of the game for quite a while, and-"

"_Thank you, _David. But we're here to provide actual assistance to Blaine, for once." Wes gave him The Look, and David immediately put on his best Determined face.

"Look, my point is that we didn't even think you would need us to pull you out of a panic attack before this date, because we knew you and Kurt are meant to be together, and we _thought _you knew it too. We didn't think you would be freaking out and biting your nails like a twelve year old", Wes told me.

"You need to chill, man. There's no reason for you to wear a hole into your dorm floor, because you and Kurt are set, dude. You're perfect for each other. You were all mushy and sappy even before we pulled your head out of your ass", David added.

I sighed, rubbing a hand over my face. "Guys, I _know_ Kurt's good for me. But the thing is Kurt didn't even want to go out. He said he liked me, but that he didn't think we would make it-that he had baggage, and that I wouldn't want to stay with him if he opened up to me."

"But don't you see? You're supposed to make him understand that that's not true. If there's ever a chance of a stable, healthy, forever kind of couple anywhere in Westerville, it's you two. If he's wary, then make it clear to him that he has no reason to be, alright? Everything will be fine. Don't get your panties in a twist", Wes said, smiling earnestly.

I chuckled."Yeah, I _am _a bit excessively worried, aren't I?"

"A _bit? _Man, do you even _have _fingernails anymore?", David joked.

"Thanks, guys. You guys are amazing. Even though this is the second time you've slapped me in the span of one week. At this rate, I'm going to need plastic surgery." I was feeling more like myself now.

"Well, it's not like you can't afford it", Wes sounded relieved.

"Yeah. I' m sure your Mom would be happy to pay."

"Yeah, sure", I grinned up at them as they stood up, making their way to the door.

"Now go get him, tiger!"

8888888888888

When Kurt opened the door, I could have sworn my heart skipped a beat. He looked absolutely gorgeous-well, even more than usual. That boy could look good in a potato sack. But still, it warmed my heart to know he had made an effort, and that I wasn't the only one focused on making this work. He was wearing a pale blue shirt, with a vest on top, paired with really, _really _tight black jeans. His eyes were bright, and we stood there in his doorway just staring and grinning like idiots for who knows how long.

"Hi", I breathed out eventually. I felt like too much noise would break the spell. This felt so much more intense than the night I had introduced Kurt to Wes and David, and I wanted it to last for just about forever. It was magical, this feeling. I guessed that was what being in love was like.

He blushed slightly, but maintained eye contact. He swallowed.

"Hi", he replied in kind.

I looked at him for one more long moment before I reluctantly pulled my eyes away and cleared my throat. I looked up and smiled softly at him.

"You, um, ready to go?", I asked.

Kurt shook himself, breaking the spell as stuttered out a yes. I was sad that the moment had been broken, but the anticipation of what was to come had a nervous happy bubble blooming in my chest.

I held out my hand for him to loop his through, as had become our pattern. He took it, returning my smile. God, I hoped this would go well.

The drive to the restaurant was mostly quiet, both of us immersed in our own thoughts. We would catch each other staring at each other, and then blush like schoolgirls and look away. I felt positively giddy. This was really happening. I was really going out with the guy I loved. God, even thinking about that made my heart flip happily.

When we reached the restaurant, I pulled over and turned off the engine before taking a deep breath, turning to look at Kurt with a soft smile. I was delighted to see he was beaming back at me, though he did look nervous. That was okay. _I _was nervous. But he was happy to be here-he wasn't just here because I had begged.

When I realized I was staring, and thereby wasting time, I cleared my throat and asked him one question. "Shall we?"

888888

As we walked into the restaurant, our hands brushing against each other, sending sparks up my arm, but never quite giving into the urge to lace together. The whole walk to the door continued much as the ride here had-filled with blushing faces and shy glances. God, I loved being in love...

Kurt gave me a disbelieving look as we entered, and the waitress ushered us to a secluded table after confirming our reservation. I looked back at him innocently, but he wasn't buying it. I swallowed as I was put on the receiving end of The Bitch Glare, patent pending.

"Blaine, what the hell _is _this?", he demanded of me.

"It's our first date, Kurt. You couldn't expect me to not spend _some _money-"

"_Some _money. Yes, Blaine, I expected you to spend _some _money. I knew I couldn't talk you out of it, so I expected it. But this, Blaine, this is _not _some money. It is a freaking five star restaurant. Hell, even this table cloth would cost more than my clothes."

"That's because you make most of your clothes, Kurt-"

"Oh, no. Don't think you're getting out of this that easy, Blaine. You shouldn't have spent this much, and you know it, Blaine."

"Alright, I knew that _you _didn't want me to spend this much, I admit", I said carefully, smiling tentatively and reaching out to hold his hand. At the contact, he relaxed a bit. He still looked irritated, but not as angry as before. "But this is our _first _date, Kurt. You only get one of those in a lifetime. This is supposed to be special. And besides, you know the money is nothing. And that I like spoiling you. Please just go with it?", I pleaded, bringing out my final weapon.

Kurt groaned, slapping his forehead dramatically, "Alright, fine. I'll 'go with it', as you put it. Now put the damn lip away."

I chuckled, leaning in to take him into a tender embrace, breathing in his scent.

"Anything for you, sweetheart", I said, not regretting my slip of the tongue as I saw Kurt's blush. He was too adorable for his own good.

The rest of the night was nothing short of magical. That powerful spell fell over us again as we talked and laughed and shared secrets, completely in a world of our own. There were no cliché moments where one of us wiped sauce off the other's lip, but that was what was special about us. The things that made us different were the things that made us stronger than most couples. I was never surer that I was in love with one Kurt Hummel. Of course, I wasn't stupid enough to believe that Kurt loved me as well, but I would do anything in my power to make it possible, sometime in the future.

"So, you definitely outdid yourself tonight, Blaine Anderson", he teased. We were spending a few seconds basking, after I had settled the check in front of a mildly uncomfortable looking Kurt.

"Well, you deserve nothing but the best. And besides, it was nothing special", I said, shrugging.

"It was special for me, Blaine. No one has ever gone to the trouble to do..anything even remotely close to this before. You're the only one who's made me feel special. I know the money was nothing for you, but it meant everything to me. So thank you. For an amazing first date. I couldn't have asked for better", he said softly, not looking at me.

My heart swelled. I had been worried if this would be enough-not about the money, since this was the most expensive restaurant in town, and Kurt wasn't the sort of guy to judge based on cost, anyway, but I had been worried whether Kurt would enjoy it, or whether he would think it was just all stupid and extravagant, and turn down any chance of us being together. But his words eased all my fears.

Feeling bold, I reached over and gently laced my fingers with his, eliciting a slight widening of his eyes. I took his hand, and brushed a kiss over his knuckles, making him blush, and I had no doubt my face was equally as red.

"I'm glad you liked it. But", I said carefully, "the night is still young-do you want to maybe take a walk with me?" My face betrayed the hope I was trying to conceal. But it turned out I had nothing to worry about. Kurt readily stood up, leading the way, and calling over his shoulder,

"I know the perfect place."


End file.
